


meaning

by wigglebox



Series: Post-SPN, Canon/Headcanon Universe [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Post-Canon, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 10:28:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29873289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wigglebox/pseuds/wigglebox
Summary: Lazy Sunday morning musings
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Post-SPN, Canon/Headcanon Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2040389
Comments: 8
Kudos: 63





	meaning

Sleet tapped on the window in the early morning hours, joined by a gusty wind that whistled as it passed by the cabin, all signaling a miserable mid-February day ahead.

Dean laid on his side, eyes trained on the small strip of early morning light visible through a gap in the drawn curtains, dull and gray, filtered from the storm clouds outside. Pressed against him, Cas still slept, taking deep breaths that coaxed Dean back into a shallow sleep every few minutes. Cas created the extra warmth needed where the pellet stove in the adjacent room couldn’t reach, developing a bubble of contrast to the winter weather outside. 

Several times Dean had wanted to turn over to face Cas, but the energy wasn’t there. He also didn’t want to get the day going just yet. So long as he remained still, so did time, so did space. 

They had only fallen asleep three hours prior, finally settling down after an active evening and night with the alone time that they hadn’t had for a couple of months. Sleep had been pushed off as long as they could to take time for each other, time that had slipped away after their [Christmas announcement](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27741619/chapters/67901128). Reveling in every touch and whispered word, every swallowed gasp, grasp of the sheets, prayer and swears mumbled into the pillow— Dean cursed his age in the end for forcing himself asleep, knowing that had he been twenty years younger they could have gone all night and into the early morning without much of a break. 

But they didn’t move far from each other afterward with Cas pressed against him in the familiar fashion he always did, with an arm draped over Dean’s side like it always was, giving that comfortable weight of security to them both. 

Dean’s thoughts drifted to the day ahead of them, planless with only a small tradition; a Valentine’s Day series of events that included take-out, some campy movie from the ‘80s, and binging on the holiday candy they stashed for a month.

Nothing strenuous, nothing extravagant—they’ve done it like that every year whether they were at the lake cabin or at the bunker, and maybe next year—

A house.

The worn down, abandoned structure a quarter of a mile south from the roadhouse didn't stick in Dean’s mind that much early on. He used it as daydream fodder, _maybe one day, what would that even look like,_ but only in the last two months had he actively let himself consider the option. The little building needed a lot of TLC, along with the red barn that dwarfed the house in the backyard. It sat a ways off 281 on 150 Road surrounded by a smattering of trees—some of the only trees in the area until you get into town.

From what Dean estimated in his head, the bedroom had a north and east—maybe a west window; light available all around, most important to see every sunrise and every sunrise should they want to—if they could keep their eyes off each other. 

For Dean, laying in the cabin’s bedroom on that February morning, it was easier to pretend it was them waking up in that little house than it was when they laid in the dark back at the bunker. 

Not that the bunker would stop being home as well—Dean made a mental note early on to emphasize that should he ever muster up the balls to bring the idea up—but a different kind of home. It had felt like since Christmas, since that night at Glen Elder park where they laughed over their rings, since the following day where they told their friends where their future plans were taking them—that they’ve officially entered the next phase, whatever that phase was, of their life. 

Said phase needed that bubble to stay, a place where after they were done with a shift at the roadhouse or a shift at the library or the food bank in Abilene after they were done with a case—a rare outing for them but still happened—just a place where Dean and Cas could go and rest and take each other in without worry or distraction. 

As Dean laid in bed, Cas still tucked in behind him, he closed his eyes once more as his imagination took him into fuzzy, but surprisingly vivid dreams: glimpses of a potential future of lazy Sunday morning sunrises in bed; having a quiet breakfast at the table while Jack watched TV in the other room over his bowl of cereal; walking to and from the Roadhouse or into town on nice weather days; fixing up the barn, little by little—

Dean’s body forced a sudden stretch in bed, annoyed at the still position for so long while he remained conscious. The movement caused his stomach to wake up as well, reminding Dean as loud as it could that there was a pound of bacon in the freezer. 

The slow and steady breathing up against Dean stopped as the small actions disturbed Cas, waking him up. Dean heard a drawn-out yawn behind him as Cas shifted as well, arm lifting off of Dean and up into the air before coming back down. Cas placed a hand on Dean’s back, no longer protected by the warmth.

“You’re up early,” Cas mumbled, barely heard over the gust of wind as it rushed past the cabin. He shifted again, finding the familiar position, and placed a kiss on the back of Dean’s neck. 

A lazy tendril of heat wound its way down from the spot as another gust of wind lashed a wave of sleet against the window. 

Dean shivered. 

“Storm woke me up,” he answered, tilting his hips back, brushing against Cas’ and smiling at the sharp intake of breath, “Just thinking.”

Cas’ hand slid down from Dean’s back to grip his side, holding his hip in place while Cas pressed against him, suggestive and earnest. Dean’s eyes fluttered closed as he wondered if he had the energy after sleeping for only three hours. Cas repeated the motion, and Dean decided he didn’t care—he’d make it work. 

“Thinking about what?” Cas asked before depositing another kiss on the back of Dean’s neck as his hand began to travel down Dean’s side, fingers skating along too-sensitive skin. Dean couldn’t stop his back from arching slightly, trying both to get more and less of the touch. 

Dean wanted to turn over, to look at Cas in the filtered light knowing that even in the grayness of the morning, his eyes would still be that addictive bright blue.

But he couldn’t. Dean knew if he turned over and willingly subjected himself to that piercing stare, all while being worked over by exceptionally talented hands, then he’d spill all the half-cooked beans. 

It wasn’t time yet to ask. 

Dean hadn’t formed the argument in his head, though he figured Cas may not need that much convincing. 

Instead, he stayed on his side and leaned into every touch and every whisper by his ear, letting himself get swept away in the lazy movements of the morning. 

“Home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! <3
> 
> I hope you're all doing well! 
> 
> This fic I wanted to have posted on February 14th for Valentine's Day/Destiel wedding day, but finishing this up took me longer than normal. Hard to say, because it's a shorter fic, but I had found my muse had decided it wanted to take a little bit of a nap!
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoyed reading it. It does take place in the two months after their proposal in [Married Christmas](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27741619/chapters/67901128). 
> 
> I almost decided to write their wedding because of The Day TM (which, by the way, to the entire fandom: Thank you. That wedding day was incredible), but in the end, decided I wanted to put in a few fics between the proposal and the actual wedding first. It was a quick, simple fic, but I will admit I'm a sucker for these kinds of small snapshots into their day and headspace ;___;
> 
> It will be added to my post-show headcanon world (which still needs to be named). 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I love these dorks so much. 
> 
> <3 Jen / wigglebox tumblr / cabinwrite twitter
> 
> [this fic is unbetad and my first one in a couple of months so if you see a correction that needs to be made please kindly let me know!]
> 
> Photo by [Sebastiano Piazzi](https://unsplash.com/@sebastiano_piazzi?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText) on [Unsplash](https://unsplash.com/?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText)


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